


miss me

by winchestered_again



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Disabled Eddie Kaspbrak, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Nonbinary Richie Tozier, Past Eddie Kaspbrak/Myra Kaspbrak, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, Trans Richie Tozier, he/they richie ONLY in my house from now on, implied internalized homophobia, maybe eddie's giving clues but no im not changing it, no summary bc everything i come up w is shit, only one bed trope, projection? yes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchestered_again/pseuds/winchestered_again
Summary: i'm tired of working on this draft so here u gothe other chapters are in progress
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: Writers Revolution Be My Valentine 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm tired of working on this draft so here u go 
> 
> the other chapters are in progress

“Please tell me you aren’t doing anything next month,” Eddie says as soon as Richie opens their front door.

He looks stressed, Richie notices. Fidgeting with his crutches the most he can while using them. He’s dressed the same as he’d been arriving in Derry; a polo and, well, that was new; a pair of black skinny jeans.

They can already feel one of their eyebrows quirking up. Had he walked all this way? The thought of that sets off a flare of concern. Eddie glowers at their amused expression. Their amusement grows the longer they’re quiet, and the more annoyed Eddie gets.

“Just answer me, Dipshit,” Eddie snaps.

“Whoa there! For your information,” they start, “I am. But what if I was? What were you gonna do?” Richie gestures to Eddie’s entire body on  _ you. _

“Cry, obviously.”

It had been a year since they reunited in Derry, Maine. A year since Ben and Mike had carried an injured Eddie out of Neibolt. A year since Richie was the most terrified they’d ever been.

_ “We aren’t fucking leaving him!” Richie yells with as much fierceness as they could possibly gather. Their body is brimming with anger as they look up at their friends from their position on the ground. Eddie’s head was resting in their lap, the man himself blinking slowly and quietly. Eddie wasn’t supposed to be quiet. And there was no fucking way they’d rip Richie away from Eddie. They’d die with him if they had to, wither away to bones beside their love. They’d get Eddie out even though it looked like he’d already bled himself dry with how much had soaked into the fabric of their clothes and rock underneath them. _

_ With how much blood was on Richie’s hands. _

_ The other losers are jumpy and itching to get out, they can tell. They share looks with each other, all of them uncertain. The only thing Richie can think is that they better not separate Eddie and them. _

_ Stan is the first to step up. _

_ “Someone grab his shoulders,” he calls out. Ben and Mike both rush forward, taking over for Stan. They carry him back through tunnels, twisting and turning. Richie feels a small sliver of hope ignite. _

_ They run out in time to see the old house crumble. _

_ “Call an ambulance!” _

_ “We don’t have time!” _

_ Richie is getting in second, Eddie’s head back in their lap. Stan takes up the seat under his legs. Eddie’s chest is rising and falling only enough to tell he’s alive. _

_ Richie cups Eddie’s face, desperately begging for him to open his eyes. _

_ “Eddie, please!” _

The memory fades there, no time being lost from the remembrance of it. The memory also serves as a way to quickly dampen their mood.

They close the door as soon as Eddie is through, nervousness and all. He’s actually looking better, Richie admits to themself, glancing at how the skinny jeans accentuate certain, ahem, qualities. Excluding that, there seems to be a bit more color in his face and he’s filled out a little from the worryingly thin man in Derry, to a man that actually looks healthy.

Richie feels incredibly proud of him.

“So,” they start, grabbing an orange and starting to peel. “What am I agreeing to do next month anyway?” They free one of the slices and pop it into their mouth.

Eddie glances back over at Richie from where he’s taking a cup out of the cabinet. He fills it with water and brings it to the island on the other side. He slides onto one of the seats, letting one arm rest over the other and setting his crutches against the island.

He looks away then, embarrassed as he rushes out with: “I need a fake boyfriend.” His cheeks redden.

Richie nearly drops their orange.  _ A fake boyfriend? And he’s asking me?  _ They think incredulously. So much for not being in the friend zone. They try to play it cool by raising an eyebrow.

“Why?”

Eddie blows out an exhale. “Myra won’t go through with the divorce because she doesn’t believe me,” Eddie says, not looking at them once. Then he seems to realize something. “Or, is it alright if I call you my boyfriend?” He looks up at them then, doe eyes questioning and bright.

Richie feels a bit conflicted with that, especially since they feel a bit more neutral at the moment, but they also didn't mind it too much. They’re insanely glad Eddie had asked, though. They decide on going for another term.

Richie shifts on their feet, looking away from Eddie.”Something else?” they ask timidly. Eddie nods, a small smile appearing.

“What about date? It leaves no room for questions,” Eddie suggests, and Richie smiles again at the small, warm feeling unfurling in their chest. For a second, they forget this is supposed to be fake.

“I like it.”

Eddie's smile turns warm. “Have you eaten yet?”


	2. Chapter 2

The mentioned date approaches quicker than Richie expects. They find themselves hanging off each other more than usual those passing days. The passing time saw them going to each others' houses to practice. Which meant stuffing his feelings down enough that there was no way Eddie would notice. But that's hard when Eddie insists on practicing kissing in particular.

Eddie's mouth is soft against his. Firm. Kissing him was something akin to a fairy tale as they pulled and pushed and moved together. Every time and it never gets dull.

Eddie raises a hand to the back of his neck, pushing the digits through his  unruly curls. He curls those fingers and pulls, eliciting a small whimper from Richie. Eddie smiles against his lips. Richie is pretty sure Eddie was trying to make him suffer.

The kiss lasts a few seconds longer before they have to take a breath. Their eyes open and Richie has to repress the urge to look like a lovesick puppy.

He hopes he's successful.

And kissing wasn't the only thing they practiced. They'd go out sometimes, too. They tried being a little affectionate out in public. At least, as affectionate as they could without outing Richie. 

He was definitely thankful Eddie understood and did that. He loved that Eddie knew him that well, too. 

Later that day finds them packing bags and on their way. Back to New York for the last thing Eddie needs to do before he's free. 

Richie's glad Eddie asked him  suddenly , not able to imagine any of the other losers doing this. Not able to imagine them being close like this. Not able to handle the jealousy of any of the others being "with" Eddie.

They wear disguises as they travel to the airport and inside. Boarding passes with little fanfare.

Eddie is fidgeting  viciously as they sit down, nerves high. 

"Eds? You alright?"

Eddie looks over at him, frowning.

"No. Of course not."

Richie's heart hurts for him, for the fact that he feels like this because of one person. He hates Myra with a burning passion for doing this to Eddie. For making him so afraid of her.

Richie hesitates before taking Eddie's hand and squeezing. Eddie's shoulders drop a little as he relaxes a bit. Then he squeezes back, his cheeks colored pink.

He hopes that Eddie knows he's here to talk. He shouldn't have to keep those feelings in.

Hypocrite, his brain tells him.

Richie stays awake most of the trip, wanting to make sure Eddie's alright. Eddie himself naps  fitfully . Richie wishes he could give him that restful sleep. He wishes that he could take those bad feelings away and only leave Eddie with the good ones.

Both of them are groggy as they step off the plane, carry-ons in hand. Richie is the one to call them an uber. Eddie definitely seems thankful.

Then they get to their hotel. It was a nice one, but there was only one problem.

"There's only one bed."

Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3

The two look at each other. Eddie shrugs. Richie lies and says that they have no opinion on it.

Surprisingly, Eddie says, "We'll take it." He takes the keys from the desk clerk's hands and slides them into his back pocket. Richie follows with the two's bags, a subtly surprised look still sitting on his face. But then again, Richie told themself, this could be more practice or something of the like.

Richie wasn't sure. And they supposed that it didn't make sense for it to be practice if they were alone.

They find themself in the bathroom pretty soon after they step inside the hotel room. A simple room with a shower, sink, and toilet. The light colors contrast well with the dark hues. Not that Richie was paying too much attention to the color of the walls. Not while they were busy suffering over their lifelong love. And the fact that they were in a fake relationship with said lifelong love.

Why was this so difficult? They were freaking out like a fucking teenager. Their cheeks are bright red and there's something in their eyes that they know they can't let Eddie see. They look into the mirror and throw some water on their face. They brace themself with their hands on a corner of the sink.

"Get it together," they mutter back at their reflection.

Their reflection is silent. Richie groans as they set their forehead on their arms. They weren't going to get a break, were they?

They walk back into the room once their face had settled down. Eddie is stripping the sheets, his own set of sheets on the top of his bag.

"So," they begin, just as the last corner is fixed. Eddie looks up at them. "Which side are you taking." It seems like a good thing to ask before Richie takes his side and he yaps about it. Not that Richie would mind listening to that. Not with their obvious still-problem.

"Left." Then he goes back to unpacking after giving them a small smile.

Richie lets out a breath and then they're wondering how sleeping will work out. Will they face each other? Will they be back to back? front to back? Richie isn't sure if he wants to find out just yet.

Richie migrates over to their bag. They set it on the small couch the room also provides and open it. Various clothes and items peek out at them from inside. They sigh. Then they grab their toiletry items and lock themself in the bathroom again.

It was sort of starting to feel like some kind of safe-space, as it had their own home. Although, it was definitely different.

They dig out their toothbrush and toothpaste. They wonder how Eddie feels about the arrangements, if he has any strong feelings or not. They transfer some toothpaste onto the brush and start the two minutes of brushing.

Maybe Eddie is pleased by the information. Or he isn't. Richie hopes he is. Or, a less likely option, Eddie had done this on purpose, finding the only place with a singular bed available. Like they said, unlikely.

The rest of their routine is as boring as it sounds and soon Richie finds themself in bed.

Eddie is just climbing in when they drift off.


End file.
